Speed married to utility

By David Booth, Canwest News Service

Originally published: October 8, 2009

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This autojournalism stuff can be quite simple, really. Oh, sure, one can make it all very complicated, dissecting specification charts, engineering manuals and the often hilariously facile manufacturer’s product press release. But, in the end, evaluating an automobile is still very much a seat-of-the-pants affair, instinctual and subjective, even if the randomness is quelled by (hopefully) years of testing experience.

Stability, that feeling of predictability at speed, for instance, may be a result of a diverse and seemingly unending set of qualitative parameters such as wheelbase, track width, steering pin inclination angle, centre of gravity and a suspension’s theoretical roll centre, but its manifestation is far more subjective. Indeed, stability is simply the feeling of confidence one gets that the vehicle one is driving wants to continue on its path regardless of atmospheric or physical perturbations that want to knock it off line.

The best way to measure stability, as far as this not-so-humble autoscribe is concerned, is to randomly compare the speed at which you think you’re driving without looking at the speedometer with the actual speed the needle is indicating. The greater the spread, the greater your comfort in the vehicle’s natural ability to maintain a set course with a minimum of fuss.

The difference between cars and, indeed, countries of origin of said cars, can be startling. Until recently, Japanese cars did not fare well in such comparisons. Japan is a tiny, congested island with much-trafficked roadways and extremely tight speed laws, so little importance was placed on high-speed stability. North America suffered less of the former problem but had similarly Draconian traffic laws and, consequently, domestically produced automobiles only recently started treating handling and stability as important traits. Considering the far greater speeds attained on the continent, on the other hand, it’s no surprise German cars and the occasional Jaguar sedan are among the most stable cars on the planet.

The best of the lot — again, in my not-so-humble opinion — is BMW. Oh, sure, there are exceptions — the incredible VW Phaeton, the Mercedes S/CL-Class and, surprisingly, Hyundai’s Genesis V8 — but, in general, the boys from Munich do it best.

A 7 Series seems glued to the road regardless of speed. Ditto the Z4 and mid-sized 5. Even the tiny, Brit-made-but-German-engineered Mini makes high speeds seem decidedly unexciting. Drive any of them at the speed limit and you have the illusion you could step out of the driver’s seat and walk beside the car so dramatically do they reduce the sensation of speed.

To that list we can now add BMW’s latest incarnation of its largest sport-ute, the X5 M. The most saleable piece of the new super sport-brute — at least the one BMW’s showroom personnel will tout most — will, of course, be the 555 horsepower that its specification sheet boasts, but the first thing I noticed after I picked up the lowered and more stiffly suspended SAV (that’s BMW-speak for Sports Activity Vehicle) was that my guesstimated 120 kilometres an hour cruising speed was, in actual fact, a Julian Fantino-baiting buck-sixty. Indeed, my major problem throughout the week that I tested the X5 M was the shock I’d get every time I glanced down at the speedometer and discovered how audaciously I was flouting the speed limit.

Of course, much of this has to do with the effortless turn of speed afforded by the M’s twice-turbocharged 4.4-litre V8. Five hundred and fifty-five horsepower has a way of moving even 2,935 kilograms along with alacrity; though, to be truthful, the X5’s seemingly relentless gathering of speed has more to do with its 500 pound-feet of torque and the fact that it occurs as low as 1,500 rpm. With exceedingly little drama and very little noise, the mega-powerful V8 accelerates deceptively, adding to the sense that the X5 M makes outrageous speeds feel normal.

Nor does all that stability come at the expense of the X5’s ride and ease of handling. BMW’s variable-effort Servotronic steering makes light work of parking the hefty beast, and the M, for all its turn of speed and decidedly sporting bent, still rides much better than the first-generation, buckboard-like X5. The suspension compliance is, of course, much harsher than the pillowy-soft, off-road-oriented Range Rover, but considering that SUVs — with their high centres of gravity — generally need very stiff suspe sions to allow flat cornering, the X5 M’s ride is very commendable, thanks in large part to the Adaptive Drive system that electronically alters damper resistance according to the conditions and speed. It’s also worth noting that the X5 M’s xDrive AWD system has a decidedly rear-wheel-drive bias so that its handling (and stability) more closely mimics a rear-wheel drive sedan.

Inside, the changes are less noticeable compared with the standard X5. There are some leather trim bits with a carbon fibre motif and the seats feature even more bolstering to counter the g-forces of which the X5 M is capable.

It’s worth noting that the rear seats are more spacious than the first generation’s and also that the X5 M’s rear cargo capacity is greatly enhanced compared with the very similar X6.

This latest generation of iDrive is more intuitive than ever. A few more years of development and it will be almost as good as old-fashioned buttons.

BMW has added a rear- and side-view camera to the package. Though its resolution can be found wanting, its bird’s-eye view is illuminating.

There’s even an automatic door closing system on offer, a boon to we geriatrics suffering from weak wrists but surely at least a minor sacrilege on an M-badged vehicle.

What is not surprising for anything wearing BMW’s famed M badge is that this X5 is the most powerful production sport-utility vehicle on the planet. And, thankfully, it has a chassis that can handle all that speed.